


I'm a Pro at Imperfections

by mmwaite



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-24 10:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10740078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmwaite/pseuds/mmwaite
Summary: 5 times Kurt has a tattoo Blaine admires, and one time Blaine has one to be admired. A story mainly told through tattoos and first times.





	I'm a Pro at Imperfections

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-post from when I published this from ff.net, I haven't read it over since, I just wanted everything in one place!

I.

Transferring from Dalton hadn't been easy. He knew that the pay cuts his father's company were forced to make weren't planned. The downsizing of their house and moving to smaller city just to find a demoted job was one thing. Guilting Blaine into move to a public school because Dalton tuition was far too high was another.

The night his mother came to Blaine's room with a soft knock and sweet smile only to learn that Gregory Anderson, Partner of Anderson & Swinth and consulting extraordinaire, had been advised that splitting the business would be beneficial to both parties and was left to fend for himself. Little did Johnson Swinth know the Andersons were just scraping by in hopes of closing a huge deal in the near future.

Knowing this alone was enough for Blaine to feel anxious, but his mother continued with small mentions of _costs of our current living situations_ and _education is a privilege_ , but the deciding factor was when she looked her son in the eyes with trace amounts of regret and desperation.

"Blaine, honey-bee, we as a family should be thinking about our next steps. Andersons always look to the future. Your father and I have decided to look into other schools for you. Dalton tuition just costs so much, sweetie," She drawled pleadingly.

"I know, Ma. I figured something would have to change, I'm just going to miss everyone I guess, and being away from everyone for senior year. What schools were you looking at? Lake Ridge Academy? Harvest Prep, St. Charles?" Blaine knew he'd have to give up something to help his family out, but surely he'd still be able to attend a quality, safe school, right?

"No, honey-bee, we were actually looking at schools in Lima. There seems to be a quaint little school called William McKinley. We were actually looking into a house down there and it's only about a ten minute walk to school!" _Great, public. And competition._ Competing against other Ohio choirs had only exposed the senior to select schools, but the New Directions were definitely a repeat appearance. "Sure, Ma. Sounds…uh – quaint..."

So it isn't quaint. Blaine's first day is a disaster starting with getting lost trying to find the main office to find his schedule and locker assignment and ending with a slushy to the face. Because apparently that's a thing in public high schools now, along with packs of letterman jackets prowling the hallway like they didn't have classes to get to _even though it was a school_ for gods sake. And finding out the glee club isn't meeting this week because of some outbreak of something that has the hallways constantly snickering just seemed to be the cherry on top.

Being able to leave at the end of the day is the only saving grace. Remembering where he parked was not as easy though, and he almost wishes he had been talked into walking for his first day, but instead insisted on being able to drive as a security blanket (even if he didn't tell his mother that). As Blaine stands on the top step of the front stairs of the school searching for his car, he realizes he hasn't gotten any negative reaction towards his presence at the school (minus the slushy because that's a _thing_ and happens to whoever is "closest and nerdiest," according to a mouth-breather bystander with a camera).

Smiling slightly when he sees his dark blue prism, Blaine starts making his was down the steps, but only makes it to the last two when he feels a pressure on his left shoulder, slight, then harder until he's being shoved down the last few feet towards the ground. He brings his hands out in front of him to brace for the fall and winces as gravel digs its way into his palms and knees as he skids to a stop a few feet from the bottom. Glancing up, he sees a figure in the distance straight ahead dressed in what seems like a black jacket and tall boots, propped up against a large black SUV. Turning away from the mysterious figure to look behind him, he finds the perpetrators, who look to be a group of three infamous jocks snickering, glowing red and staring down at him.

As he moves to bring his knees under himself to stand the group starts moving in and a few choice words work their way through the slow fog of anxiety forming in his mind. He figures it must have been the solid red bowtie that gave him away, considering it's the only thing that could be construed the _wrong_ way. A quick kick to the ribs and a rough "Just stay down, bitch. It seems right... Where you belong," shakes him out of the paralysis that has come over him in the small period of time it took him to prop himself on his knees and brush off his palms.

Laying on his side now, the group walks away only leaving behind a group of on-lookers, some still snickering and others just covering their mouths – too afraid to have said anything and prevent Blaine's suffering. A looming shadow falls into Blaine's line of sight, forcing him to look up and recognize it as the figure from just a few seconds ago.

"If you're gonna be that obvious you're gonna have to learn to defend yourself. Get up." The boy, who has dark grey eyes and extraordinarily tall hair with small flecks of what seems to be magenta and teal, says sternly all while holding out a hand. Quirking a pierced eyebrow when Blaine doesn't immediately latch on to the hand thrust in front of him makes him realize that he's been staring since the taller boy walked up, and slowly moves his hand up, fearing more rejection or worse: a prank.

Apparently he's too slow, as the boy with colored hair reaches further down to grab Blaine's hand and tightly grips his forearm to tug him all the way to his feet. As soon as he is on even footing, Blaine realizes just how short he is compared to this boy with amazing eyes. Looking straight into them, small flecks of blue surrounded by grey blink out at him.

When the boy in all black retracts his hand a few seconds after Blaine finds his footing he immediately turns around and starts stalking off toward his ride home, pausing only to make sure there are no longer any red jackets around and setting off at a brisk pace.

Blaine, now completely alone in the parking lot and surrounded by blank stares, finally starts to make his way towards his car. Looking back up from staring at the ground he finds the mysterious boy one last time before noticing a small patch on the back of his neck. Trying to concentrate harder, he notices it has the vague shape of letters spaced closely together, figuring they're probably roman numerals.

II.

He finally gets to the second week of school. The first was pure hell though. Somehow, some semblance of hope that there wouldn't be any slushies formed in his mind, thinking that the weekend would provide a break and opportunity to forget the new kid. But, of course he was wrong. Bright and early Monday morning there is a bright green slushy waiting for him thanks to none other than Azimio, football star, as he has learned through the slushy grapevine. It's better to know who hates you than going at it blind, right?

With eyes clenched tightly, Blaine tries not to allow the whispers and slurs get to him, even though this is the one situation that resembles most of what his old school in Westerville felt like – the stares when you're being taunted, the lack of teachers willing to help kids on the bottom of the food chain, the bystanders that don't care to help, fearing they'd be next. Not even ten seconds after the verbal harassment starts, an angered voice emerges from the crowd, seemingly distressed and enraged all at once. Blaine squeezes his eyes once more, and with a gentle wipe of his eyes with his hands, he peeks through the mush to see the one and only Kurt Hummel, apparent skank, and not someone he should mess with, according to a few of the students he shares AP classes with. Thank god someone took pity on him, if only to gossip for their own enjoyment. That Rachel girl can talk an ear off, that's for sure.

"Back the fuck off, Azimio, what the fuck are you thinking. Oh, well that explains it because YOU FUCKING AREN'T ARE YOU, Jesus Christ," he almost screams, only muttering the last part, while simultaneously glaring at any passerby and their lack of concern in aiding Blaine. It appears that Kurt is willing to come toe to toe to these jocks with little fear of repercussions, and on Blaine's behalf, no less. He finds that it's actually kind of hot, but he can't really tell if this guy is standing up for him, or just because he felt like it. Knowing how skanks operate was not explained to him, but he didn't think they'd be ones to start fights over their lesser peers, but more just for the hell of it.

"...brain the size of his dick," he hears Kurt mutter, not quite sure if it was meant for anyone at all. He looks back up to Azimio to see he caught the comment as well but still doesn't know if he should be angry or not yet, only to be confirmed when Kurt makes eye contact with him and declares with a smirk, "It was a _small_ joke, dickwad."

However, Kurt seems to think better of downright punching the guys, and just continuing to lay a verbal smackdown on them, which is actually pretty effective considering none of them stick around very long after the words "castrate," "wrench," and "accident," are used.

Once the last spritely jock all but sprints down the hallway Kurt turns to Blaine, finding the smaller boy almost casually leaning against the red lockers if it weren't for the green slime dripping down his chest.

Kurt looks at him like a species of alien before slowly reaching out to grab his forearm, much like the instance in the parking lot the previous week. Suddenly Blaine notices the small patch of discolored skin on Kurt's right wrist, making a mental note of another tattoo. _Thank god for small mercies and three-quarter sleeve shirts,_ Blaine thinks, as Kurt takes his arm firmly.

Once Kurt successfully leads Blaine to the boy's restroom and locks the door from the inside, he starts his way towards to paper towel dispenser.

"Why are you helping me?" Blaine all but breathes out, not wanting to give the Kurt the impression that Blaine doesn't want his help, because god, does he. He doesn't even dare look up from knee level.

"Because you're kind of pathetic and it's like literally watching a puppy get kicked, and god knows I don't need that on my conscience." The taller boy states with a regal air, bringing over a handful of paper towels and hands them to Blaine, wafting a wave of cigarette smoke and lilac with him. Blaine gets the feeling that the boy beside him has more going on for him than the "Skank" look he's learned about over the last week and a half.

"Well that doesn't mean anything to me because you could have just left me there and stared like any of the other kids out there, just... _ogling_ for a chance to ruin the new kid." Ignoring the paper towels being handed to him, Blaine stalks over to the sink and immediately turns it on, shoving is face under it. No matter how hot or cold the water coming out happens to be, Blaine feels like he has a better shot of staying inconspicuous under it that staring straight at Kurt, however painful the result it.

Thankfully the water happens to be slightly warmer than the slushy that engulfed him not only ten minutes ago. As he starts rinsing his hair and face, he notices that Kurt hasn't left, fully aware that the other boy is watching him. He takes a small break from rinsing out his curls to glance at the skank, and only has enough time to register that the arm propping the boy against the wall is covered in black ink up to about two inches from his elbow. Though it appears to be nothing but a random design, once Blaine focuses he realized that it's a design made up of small tools, wrenches, hammers, screwdrivers, Blaine even thinks he sees a car bumper and an individual screw or two.

"You have a problem with me being here, Anderson?" He gruffly states, though how he manages to be "gruff" with how high pitched his voice is really confuses Blaine.

"I – uh... no, I'm fine, thanks, you don't really have to stay you know, you can leave," Blaine stammers, with a hint of hope that Kurt won't want to leave, because who would leave behind a puppy? He said so himself.

"You really are pathetic, but I can appreciate why you're doing this." He states with what seems to be relief. "I mean, the whole not changing thing. _Yay_ out and proud, I guess." With a flinch of an eyebrow he moves to lower is arm and leave.

"W-well, wait what do to you mean, I don't – "

"You're fucking gay, and everyone knows it now, there's no need to come out at this point Anderson. No one could hide it with those bowties, plus amazing gaydar." He points to himself, emphasizing the last point without malice.

"Jesus," Blaine almost whispers, "Why do people even _care_ , I haven't even been here more than two weeks and they know and hate me," he stammers and doesn't appear to be too committed to the idea of denial. "I haven't even had time to do anything for them to hate!" Well past the point of frustrated, awareness of how little fear he has of being alone with a notorious skank settles in but it doesn't make him uncomfortable, surprisingly.

"Well it seems to be hereditary, considering everyone in this town A, doesn't make it out and B, actively reproduce, many of which never make it out. Everyone hates us. And you're gonna have to get used to it." Kurt huffs one last time and turns around to leave this time, going as far as to unlock the door.

"Wait, w-…. Would you be able to just like – talk. Sometime. I mean- obviously you don't have to say yes, but no one else has talked to me yet, and glee hasn't started and I honestly _feel_ like a kicked puppy right now, but don't feel like you owe it to me, I mean I probably owe you something for taking me out of that freak show of a crowd around me and-"

He finally cuts himself off when Kurt moves to turn back around to face Blaine and moves his hand up to cup his arm again with his hand . "Like I said, desperate... Give me your phone."

Shakily, Blaine hands over his new iPhone, sincerely hoping that Kurt will use it properly, not just take it to toss into the toilet and flush because hey, this does sound pretty desperate, begging for a friend like this. And he still doesn't really know what to expect from a skank yet, even one that's been this kind so far.

While Blaine anxiously waits for Kurt to make up his mind on whether or not the phone is trash worthy, Kurt is silently tapping away at the screen, and quickly tries to hand it back, but it seems that Blaine's hand just won't extend the extra two inches to grab onto the cell phone. Kurt quickly but gently takes his hand and opens it to place the phone into Blaine's palm and turns one last time towards the door, smirk firmly planted on his face, leaving Blaine to grasp onto the fact that he actually has someone to talk to here.

After successfully exiting the bathroom, Blaine looks down at his phone which hasn't moved an inch from where Kurt released his hold, the curly haired, thick rimmed glasses-wearing student sees a new entry.

**Hummel**

**(419) 358-0394**

It seems like a good idea to just start off honest, and immediately apparently.

From: Blaine

To: Hummel

_so would it be too forward to say i owe you a coffee for helping me today?_

From: Kurt

To: Prep

_No._

From: Blaine

To: Hummel

_i mean you didn't have to help me to the restroom or anything, i just want to make sure you know how much i appreciate what you said and everything_

From Kurt

To: Blaine

_If you're trying to beg me for more help or advice, I'm gonna have to skip out but I do enjoy coffee_

The resulting conversation over mochas and medium drips the next day after school is worth it, and kiss goodnight (see: _makeout_ ) that weekend is definitely worth it.

III.

It starts like any other time they've been able to hang out at Kurt's house before his dad comes home, with eyes giving small hints at first, leading into small pecks, leading into slightly more intense open mouthed kisses. Only this time there is eventually a loss of clothing.

With Blaine on his back and Kurt slightly hovering over him, Kurt nipping at the short boy's neck just below his jaw Blaine just barely breathes " _more,"_ probably not even intending to, but it's audible anyway. Kurt eases off his neck, almost priding himself on how the younger boy's neck looks at this point.

"What'd you say? I was a little preoccupied," he winks and smirks at the same time, as if Blaine could handle any more Kurt-isms at the moment. The time frame in which Blaine takes to compose himself is dangerously long, allowing Kurt the opportunity to stare unabashedly at the boy he's come to adore in the last two months.

"I-uh, I mean I didn't mean to – "

"It's okay, I get it," Kurt whispers as he starts to nip at his neck once more, graciously starting off slower than where he left off.

"No, I uh, can we taketheseoffmaybe – "Blaine almost mumbles the whole thing, managing to articulate up until his actual request.

"Maybe if you tell me what you want in real words, _babe,"_ Kurt murmurs against his skin, taken to almost sarcastically using the term of endearment for Blaine's sake. He knows that he's not quite at the level of intimacy Blaine craves – physical, sure, emotional, not so much. "I will do whatever you want right now, if you do this one little thing for me," he teases, not letting up on Blaine's neck.

As Blaine grasps for the older boy's shirt hem Kurt seems to realize what he wants but hesitates, debating on making him actually articulate it or just denying it all together until Blaine decides to do it himself and takes off Kurt's shirt.

It doesn't really take long for Kurt to get his answer in the form of Blaine writhing below him after having his hands pinned by his head and listening to him mumble "please, j-just our shirts, please."

" _Of course,"_ Kurt whispers, and there's no way Blaine can't help but whimper at the way the boy above him allows the slightest bit of relief when he raises himself to remove his own shirt. Once the fabric is thrown on the ground, Blaine barely manages to hold in a gasp, relishing in the new skin he's been made privy of, but mostly gawking at the new ink he's allowed to see.

On Kurt's left shoulder appears to be a design of some sort involving a paisley pattern and white ink against porcelain skin. According to Kurt, the previously discovered tattoos were in honor of his parents, the roman numerals being his mother's birthday and the tool design weaving its way up his forearm for his father's garage, where he spent most of his later childhood in, spending time with his father.

"Beauty is a weird thing." He states while hovering over Blaine, assuming that Blaine doesn't know how to word what he's thinking, even though Kurt's pretty sure he knows what he'd like to say, or ask, rather.

"wha – I, I don't,"

" _Babe,"_ Kurt huffs, almost laughing by this point, "am I gonna have to do all the work here, or what. This was your idea, huh?"

"I – yeah, yeah. Sorry." As he reaches to latch onto his own shirt hem, Kurt grabs his wrists softly nudging them away anyway. As he slowly raises Blaine's hem, the shorter boy relishes in the opportunity to glance at the older boy's tattoo once again, wishing he was allowed to ask more about it.

And suddenly the urge to just sit and talk to Kurt, to get to know him more, is at the forefront of his mind. This boy is going to be the death of him and he felt aware of the idea that it might not be reciprocated. But he'd take whatever the solitary boy felt he could give him at this point.

Conscious thought left him as soon as Kurt secured his mouth further south than they'd been able to explore before.

Jumping up when Kurt's father silently arrives twenty minutes later is mortifying, considering there is visible evidence to prove that they weren't working on "a history project," all over Blaine's chest, and even a small spot on Kurt's neck, when he allowed Blaine to take control for a solid 45 seconds.

Later when they're both in Kurt's room, with the door open, obviously, (and maybe it's only three inches, but it counts) Blaine finally gains the courage to ask what he meant by the whole beauty is weird thing.

"Sometimes, do you feel like you're not what you want. Like, you want to be more? I think that's what a lot of people think. It's weird because I like what I look like, you know? But everyone's got that one thing that gets them." With a small pause to allow himself to think, Blaine sees Kurt takes a fortifying breath before continuing with his explanation.

"And...and sometimes I just want to be like myself more, like sometimes I won't be what people want – I'm too feminine for that, or too much of a guy for that, and it just. I don't know. I just wanted that one constant that was always beautiful, no matter what I felt like I was that day."

IV.

They start talking, inconspicuous as the simple act appears. It turns out that Kurt has a lot to say about a lot of his past. It didn't take too long for him to open up and explain to Blaine that he really didn't have anything against a relationship, it just took a while to figure out if Blaine was worth the commitment. He has an obvious type and he found that Blaine clearly fits it with the thick glasses, gelled hair, small stature, and timidity. And honestly, he'd been in similar positions before and had been shit on. Repeatedly. With the same person. And the worst part was the fact that it took his father suffering a heart attack and one piece of advice, to actually remove himself from the situation and find a better place of mind. The quiet ones had a hold over him, apparently. And they almost always ended up hurting Kurt in some way. His father's "you matter" speech was the saving grace that allowed Kurt to break it off.

Even having this information out in the open Kurt was still distant, testing out the waters before actually finding himself able to just jump in.

Two weeks and three days after Blaine tried to convince Kurt to put a title to their relationship and finding out about Kurt's insecurities, Blaine finally finds it the right time to explain to Kurt why he ended up leaving Dalton. And why he was at Dalton in the first place.

They found themselves face to face, cross-legged on the futon in Kurt's room across from his bed. Telling him why he transferred to McKinley was easy, it wasn't in his control. But Dalton is another story altogether.

"See, it's just that I didn't want to seem like I was running. Honestly it really felt like it at the time. And after a while, some people finally got through to me. They said that it was a matter of feeling safe, of _being safe._ And I didn't realize it until one day I flinched at my roommate. He was just reaching for the TV remote, we weren't even talking or anything, I just didn't feel safe. And as soon as that happened, I just ran to Wes." At Kurt's confused face at the inability to place the name he continued with, "A friend from the Warblers, he lived across the hall." He huffed out a laugh that was more condescending than actual humor and took up his story again, "And he told me I was safe, it was okay to be upset that everything that happened to me had happened to me because it shouldn't have. And I finally felt okay after like two years. They understood me even if they hadn't experienced what I did; they were just there for me." At this point, tears were just barely contained. The prospect of trying to assimilate to McKinley, trying to stay feeling like he was safe was bringing him back to wanting to run.

"I was running for so long, and it felt terrible, but I wasn't actually running, I was trying to get to a place where I could finally be me." A lone tear fell down his cheek when Kurt slowly grasped the smaller boy's hand, as if he were almost asking if it were the right thing to do, when Blaine whispered "It's just hard being here after being able to feel safe, because I don't anymore. But here you are – you found a way. You're surviving, and that shouldn't be a thing, where you just have to _survive,_ we should be _living,_ and we just shouldn't have to worry about this."

At the small admission whispered in the room, Kurt leant forward and embraced Blaine's neck with his slender hand to bring him forward. Their foreheads touched just as another tear fell from each of Blaine's eyes, and Kurt sniffled.

Blaine didn't know when he closed his eyes, maybe when Kurt leant them together, but he opened them at the stifled sound. He was nothing short of shocked to see Kurt also tearing up, staring straight at him with intense regret in his eyes. But as soon as Blaine tried to pull away and start apologizing for getting to deep, too intense too fast, Kurt brought their lips together, soft and chaste as it had ever been, and fell in love. Realization that what he saw in Kurt's eyes wasn't regret about allowing him in, it was that Kurt felt regret for what happened to him. That he wasn't there for him earlier in his life. The apology still on his lips, he whispered only a soft "I'm sorry, I – " but was cut off by a small hysterical giggle from Kurt.

"You're silly if you think I'm letting you go right now." They made eye contact, both with tears in their eyes and mutually brought their lips together once again, working their way up from chaste to intense in what seemed more like their usual pace.

Kurt rearranged himself so that he was on his knees straddling Blaine, moving his hands up to grasp his cheeks, sliding his thumbs over Blaine's cheek, trying to erase the tears they both didn't want to deal with right now. Leaning forward more, Blaine finally got the message to recline, not wanting to break their kiss.

With his head firmly on the throw pillow on the arm of the futon, Blaine pulled away only to be met with the most intense emotions he'd ever seen on the blue-eyed boy. Not that they were blue at the moment, appearing to be mostly grey with overwhelming black centers.

"Please –" Blaine barely gets out before Kurt is kissing him again, not holding anything back, thrusting his tongue into the smaller boy's mouth, taking his time to explore. All the while, Kurt is working on the button-down Blaine decided to sport today, and suddenly Blaine finds himself shirtless. _When did that even happen?_

Before he can protest, not that he'd want to, Kurt's reaching for his own graphic tee and pulling it over his head. Seeing the white ink is nothing new, but the nipple piercings he'd gotten not yet a week ago still does things to Blaine, making him urge the older boy back down for another kiss.

Only this time the skank places his hand on the smaller boy's chest, hesitating before gritting out "Let's move to the bed?" Surprise was probably obvious on Blaine' face considering they usually tried to stick to couches to makeout, but something told Blaine this is a moment. This is when it becomes apparent that Kurt is giving more than trust to Blaine.

Nodding shakily, he moves to get up but is once again halted by Kurt, shocked when he leans down to kiss Blaine again, reaching for Blaine's hands and wrapping them around his own neck. Confused as Blaine is by the question and sudden change in plans, he doesn't notice that Kurt is wrapping his arms around Blaine's thighs until he's hoisted up and quickly wraps his legs around the slender boy.

He can't even help the sharp, surprised laughs that explode from his mouth because hey, this skinny ass boy is able to carry him over to the bed and this is really sexy and cute and all, but they had just been crying. It's an overload of emotions and he doesn't think Kurt minds the interruption to point out how all-over the place this situation is.

When Kurt all but throws Blaine on the bed and stands to hover above him, trying to put on his best "fuck off" face, Blaine attempts to calm his receding giggles.

"Is there something funny about this?" He grits out with a hint of sarcasm and confusion that Blaine realizes could quickly turn into hurt.

The importance of the question and subsequent answer to his question dawns on the smaller boy, realizing he didn't really calculate the seriousness of the situation to Kurt, trying to explain.

"No, of course not, I'm just – this is quite the day, don't you think? Sorry, I was just…" he lowered his eyes when Kurt's expression doesn't change.

"Hey, no, it's just, I don't know. I thought you were laughing at me, I kind of did just pick you up with no warning." The sideways smirk on his face was nothing but affection, and with that Blaine mused he had little holding him back from surging forward to bring their lips together for a short kiss.

After breaking their locked lips, Blaine glances up at Kurt, a small questioning look on his face, and is soon mirrored by Kurt. It gets replaced with a small amount of shock when Blaine reaches for his zipper.

"Can I – would this be okay? I just, I just want to be closer to you…"

When Kurt hesitates to respond, his hands are automatically on his face, trying to cover up the blush that is no doubt covering his cheeks down to his neck, rambling on, "oh, god, I'm sorry, I didn't think, I'm sorry, you're probably not into the nerdy dork type and all, and I didn't want to push you into this, you probably don't even want to be with me, I'm sorry" but is cut off by another surprisingly soft kiss on the top of his hand, one that Blaine's only ever received once before when this whole situation started.

"Babe, I'm okay, I'm okay with it," trying to pull his hands away is rough because Blaine has surprisingly strong arms, not that Kurt didn't expect that after catching him boxing that one time in the gym – but that's besides the point, the point is that Blaine is still trying to hide from him, even though he really has no choice but to acknowledge Kurt because he _is_ pinned to the bed with the other boy on top of him.

"And – I just, I, what?" he peeks through his fingers only to find that Kurt is smiling down at him.

"I said yes, and I'd really like to be closer to you too, if you didn't notice." Grinding his hips down may have been a touch too far, but it gets the message across to Blaine, and he knows it does when the smaller boy's eyes widen. Pushing his fingers together one more time and taking a deep breath, exhaling more slowly, Blaine lowers his hands to Kurt's chest, the boy still hovering above him on his elbows with that small smirk.

The kiss that gets placed on his lips is soft again, sweeter than they've allowed themselves before, and Blaine gets lost in it easily. Pulling back once more, he lowers his hands again and unbuttons Kurt's pants before looking back up when he reaches for the zipper. The small nod he gets is the only indication that Kurt is still on board because he's busy mouthing at Blaine's neck suddenly.

Kurt wiggles around to remove the black skinny jeans from his legs, a feat in itself Blaine thinks, and realizes that this is when it's his turn, panics, and calms himself down all in ten seconds. He asked for this, he will carry through regardless if Kurt doesn't know he's still a virgin.

"It'd be really reassuring if you'd open your eyes, you know," Kurt huffs, and Blaine realizes that he once again closed his eyes in his small freak out.

"It's not you, Jesus, you know I think you're gorgeous, why would you ever think it's that, I wouldn't –"

"Because as soon as I take off my pants you won't open your eyes. Do the math, nerd." Even as Kurt says it, Blaine knows that's what it must look like. And before he can even debate on whether or not he wants to tell Kurt, he's already blurting out "I've never done this before! Well, anything, really. Nothing. Before. I don't know what I'm doing. Jesus. I said all that. Out loud. For you." Before he knows it his hands are once again over his eyes, only this time it's embarrassment for himself, not the situation.

"Do we really have to do this again? I mean I didn't think it'd be that much of a surprise, I kind of guessed anyway. But hey," he tries to grab Blaine's hands again, but to no avail.

"We don't have to do this, we don't have to do anything." One more, smaller kiss against his hands with a soft sigh breaks the panic in Blaine. He peeks through his fingers again, only muttering a small, "I want to do this. I just don't want to embarrass myself. So if you're going to laugh at anything please just let me up so I can leave, I don't think I could handle that."

"You'd think I'd have enough morals not to. After all you've made me talk about," the last part is said with sarcasm and a hint of humor, offering a trade-off of secrets of sorts, and Blaine knows he's trying to make him laugh. It works like a charm, making him remove his hands slowly, and suddenly Kurt pins them above his head.

"Please don't do that again, just talk to me next time, okay, you jerk?" from the outside perspective the remark would probably be taken as rude with the position the two are in, as intimate it is, but Blaine knows the smirk on his face is meant to be seen with affection.

"Just kiss me and get it over with," he huffs, knowing Kurt would realize he was egging him on and trying to put him in charge of the situation, knowingly taking on the responsibility of talking the younger boy through everything.

Not hesitating to kiss Blaine again, he lowers his face down, jerking back just out of reach when Blaine moves forward, smiling down at the pout on his face when he doesn't get instant contact. Moving back in, he starts the kiss dirty and moves his hands down Blaine's chest, allowing him time to decide if the final stage of clothing removal is actually going to happen. He eventually gets to the first button and slowly undoes it, making sure to slow down enough to ask Blaine a small, "if you're sure," which is instantly agreed to when Blaine nods and moves back in for a kiss that has, admittedly, gotten steamier in the five minutes he's been distracted by the endless caresses from Kurt.

The removal of Blaine's colored skinny jeans only give him more confidence, strangely enough, and leads him to thumbing the skin on Kurt's thigh just under his boxer-briefs, and with a small grunt of impatience, the boy in question breaks the kiss to grab them and shrug them off, tossing the small piece of clothing to the side.

Blaine is actually pretty impressed with himself when the skank finally gets naked. He only looks at his groin for a max of thirty seconds before drifting to his legs – and oh, those _thighs,_ perfectly muscled and dusted with fine, light brown hair. And thankfully, he has another tattoo to catch his attention. For some reason, Blaine thinks he's starting to like the aesthetic of tattoos. Especially – or maybe only – on Kurt. He doesn't really care at the moment.

What he finds is a black outline of three intertwining slender vines creeping their way from front of the middle of the taller boy's thigh (how had he not noticed that before?!) all the way to right above the swell of his ass, covering almost all of his hip. Small leaves accentuate each vine, and he is almost surprised to see one small lavender blossom about the size of a golf ball right where thigh meets hip. He finds the contrast of black ink with the pastel is beautiful on the porcelain skin it's featured on. A small clearing of a throat abruptly registers with the transfixed boy.

"Jeez, sorry, I didn't mean to stare, but – jesus, Kurt," he stammered, while looking up dark grey eyes with a nervous giggle, not even trying to hide his interest and apprehension at this point.

"Oh, no, it's okay, I really do like putting on a show," he remarks confidently, and with a straight face, no less, all the while wiggling his hips and giving a shimmy of his shoulders. He obviously wasn't ashamed of his body, just careful with who he shared himself with it appeared.

"But if it's okay with you, I'd really like to stare back, so…" The question was obvious in his voice, gentle and questioning back to make sure Blaine was aware it really is his choice, and the smaller boy responds with a smile he's surprised to find doesn't have to be forced at all.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd love that too," with no trace of nervousness, he removes his own bright red briefs.

He finds his hands gravitating towards the artificially colored skin on Kurt's body when their lips meet again. Their tangle of limbs allow them to explore uncharted territory and more skin on each other's bodies, and they find that Blaine doesn't really need as much guidance as they'd believed he would need.

There is little he holds back from, but as soon as they are as close as they'd wanted to be at the beginning, Kurt discovers that what he is giving to Blaine, what's more than trust, is love.

And when they both come within three seconds of each other, he finds himself able to conceive the idea that Blaine is worth it. They are both worth it.

By the time they're both cuddled up together, satiated and panting while coming down, and gradually getting colder and colder on top of the blankets, Blaine realizes why Kurt never invited him to sit on his bed. Having that one place that can be so intimate is nothing to share freely, and Kurt is the type to take his secrets to the grave.

At the same time, though, Kurt remembers that Blaine never directly asked about his newly discovered tattoo. By now Kurt is used to the questions about the modifications coming meekly, accepting the fact that it's very probable his inquiries may be left without an answer. But that doesn't seem applicable anymore, and he knows they both understand that.

"I got it after my dad had a heart attack." He expects the statement to get a questioning glance from Blaine, but all he does is readjust so his hands are folded over Kurt's chest, with his chin resting on top of them, glasses now absent but still staring straight into his eyes and completely expecting the explanation that Kurt started apropos of nothing.

"He was in a coma for a while. Probably about a week. It was about around the time I got away from Mark. I swear to god, Dad knew I wasn't happy with him, I guess. Because when he woke up and looked at me and said, "you have to take better care of yourself"." Staring at the ceiling, a long sigh escapes his lips and glances back down at the boy observing him. "I mean, I guess it could've been because I hadn't slept much when he was there, I barely left his side, anyway. But I think that definitely had something to do with it. And when he was released from the hospital I took care of him the best I could, and he just told me "you matter, too" one day." A single tear escapes his eye, but the smile that also appeared negated any negative emotions he held about the situation.

"I got the vines the next week after breaking up with him, a little present to myself I guess, but it was a lot for dad too."

Blaine felt secure in the fact that no one else had seen them yet besides himself, and made the connection Kurt was trying to convey. No one else has seen them. Kurt was in an abusive relationship (even if he refused to call it that). He got the tattoo to help remind himself he was worth it, that he mattered and no one else decided that for him. He thought Blaine was worthy to see them.

It made his heart both break and heal at the same time.

V.

"Come with me."

Blaine had been sitting on Kurt's floor studying while the older boy used his laptop to look up tattoo ideas.

"What?" he distractedly looks up from his book, just now noticing that Kurt seems to be serious, quirking a pierced eyebrow at the smaller boy on the floor.

"I said, come with me." _As if repeating the same request again explains everything,_ Blaine thinks to himself.

"To get a tattoo?" Blaine asked incredulously. Kurt knew that Blaine enjoys his tattoos, but he definitely also knew that he didn't intend on getting one of his own anytime soon.

"No, get a unicorn at the pet store down the road. Yes, come with me to get _my_ tattoo. Jesus, act like I'd just asked you to drop out of Harvard…" He turns back to his laptop now searching for his favorite tattoo shop's hours and finding the "Book an Appointment" page, entering his information without second guessing his actions. Blaine eventually comes to realization that he's not expected to participate, just tag along and feels immediate relief.

"I- yeah. Yeah, I'd like that," he stutters along at the thought of being included in Kurt's special hobby.

"When are you going?" he asks, watching Kurt dig through his closet.

"Now. Get your shit together, let's go!" He emerges with a coat over one arm and a paper he must have printed out before he asked Blaine to go with him.

"O-okay, yeah, okay," he all but shoves his books in his satchel and crams his arms through his coat in a rush to keep up with Kurt, who's already racing down the stairs and out the front door. When Blaine finally catches up, climbing into the dark SUV he's now become pretty familiar with, he takes the time to rearrange his belongings and asks Kurt what he wants to get.

"Don't worry about it. It's a surprise." Mysteriously avoiding Blaine's eyes, he keeps driving, much more responsibly than Blaine had expected when he had let Kurt drive them to get coffee the first time.

But no matter how many times Blaine asks, it remains a mystery even when they arrive at the shop, and Kurt asks to talk to the tattoo artist – who he's apparently on a first name basis with – if they can talk more about it in the back. He assures Blaine that it's because there's more room to sketch and more templates in the back. He's not so sure he believes it but at this point he doesn't really have any reason not to trust Kurt, especially in this area. He takes a seat and is reassured that he'll come back out to tell him how long it'll take. He's also reassured that he'll be able to look at it when it's done, but not a second before.

Two and a half hours later, Kurt comes back out with a patch of gauze taped to his chest, just barely visible under his baggy tank top. _Maybe an addition to the paisley? How could it get ever better?_

Blaine stands with a smile and starts to ask – which is promptly cut off when Kurt gives him a look that clearly states _you're not asking again, and I'm not telling you, just stop while you're ahead._

Staying by Kurt's side silently while he pays and tips, Blaine can't disregard the multiplying ideas popping into his head, but knows better than to guess what to expect with his zig-when-I-thought-you'd-zag boyfriend.

They're able to get into the car before Blaine can help himself.

"C'mon, are you going to make me guess or something?" He asks in good humor, trying to reach for the paper that Kurt had brought along, thinking there'd be a hint there, maybe an outline, but apparently Kurt is surprisingly reserved, considering he's just gotten a tattoo. Blaine had expected a jittery, excited Kurt who's ready to show off his new addition to anyone walking by. He snatches the paper out of his reach without so much as a glace in Blaine's way. The smile drops when Kurt doesn't respond immediately, becoming more worried for some reason – considering a tattoo is permanent, he hopes that Kurt doesn't hate it – god forbid.

"No. You're not gonna guess, you're going to be a good little boy and wait 'til we get home, so please, just shut it." It doesn't rub Blaine the wrong way anymore to be told to stop talking, mostly because he trusts that Kurt knows what he's doing and is obviously feeling just as anxious, if not more, than Blaine. But it doesn't help the worry still present.

A small "okay," is the only thing notifying Kurt that Blaine had indeed heard him and agreed.

Getting out of the car Kurt automatically reaches behind him for Blaine's hand, a reassuring gesture for the nervous boy, and they take their time making their way up to the older boy's room remaining just like they left it in their rush to make it to the appointment. Blaine sits down on the edge of the bed and watches as Kurt hangs up his coat on the inside of the closet door. The taller boy lingers there before turning around and catching Blaine's eye, not looking away as he makes his way towards the bed.

Kurt nudges Blaine's legs apart so that he's able to stand between his knees and leans down for a small kiss that's become more familiar over the course of the last four months. Kurt stands back up, tall as ever in his never ending boots, and doesn't break eye contact with Blaine.

"I kind of lied about the pattern. About the beauty thing. Or, well, omitted some of the truth. It's white because – "

He huffs a little and shakes his head to clear his thoughts, and a little to organize what he's trying to say to Blaine. Who knew this would be so hard to talk about out of all their discussions?

"It's white because it blends in. With my skin. It's not _too_ noticeable, and that's how I felt a lot back then, and it faded a little, to the point where you could only see a little bit if you were kinda close."

A small moment of silence greets the two, allowing Blaine to move his hands to hold Kurt by the hips, slowly stroking over the skin he finds immediately under the tank top just above his jeans. Apparently the moment allows Kurt to gather his thoughts again, because he starts up soon enough to continue explaining.

"I felt invisible. For the longest time. Even this year in school, everyone left me alone, and I know I wanted that, I still fucking cherish it, but it still sucks knowing everyone's _afraid_ of you. But, god, as soon I met you." A soft sigh that could have been because of Blaine's fingers, or because he was reliving their soft moments together again, escaped his mouth, and he leaned back down to touch their foreheads again.

"You changed that. I felt like someone finally noticed – noticed me, for me. Not the scary skank with tattoos and piercings and dyed hair, but you stayed. For some reason. Who fucking knows what goes on in that mind of yours, but god. _You noticed me_."

He stands back up and takes a half a step away only to remove his shirt and quickly moves back in, right between Blaine's knees. One more deep breath and he removes the bandage covering the paisley pattern Blaine was made privy to what felt like only last week. What's underneath makes Blaine gasp, somewhat in surprise, but also in awe.

The white portion of the tattoo has been touched up with bright white ink, more detail than he's ever noticed becoming apparent. But there's also a splash of color added to the winding pattern. What looks like shining raw emerald stone seems to be subtly intertwined in some of the details on the lower portion, winding up towards his shoulder right above his nipple, but the color fades into another along with the white at the top portion of the pattern, playing off each other in the most beautiful way. Blending with the white, the pattern is extended all the way to the cap of his shoulder right above the top of his upper arm. The same paisley pattern wraps its way around is chest in stunning lavender, much like the flower on his hip.

"It's beautiful. You're beautiful, you always have been, everyone was stupid to not see it then," Blaine removes his eyes from the tattoo only to find Kurt's eyes full of tears and dare he say it, love. They hold each other's eyes until Kurt musters up something to say to break the tension that is becoming more apparent between the two.

"I love you."

Well.

"I love you too, Kurt. So much." It barely takes a second to respond in kind, only having waited this long for Kurt to say it first, if only to make sure they were on common ground, and to give time for Kurt to come to terms with his feelings. Their lips meet once again, and it only takes one more "I love you" from Kurt for Blaine to scoot back to fully sit in the middle of the bed, pulling Kurt with him.

The get lost in each other, muttering the same three words to each other over and over until they're overwhelmed with pleasure and each other.

With his head still resting on Kurt's chest, Blaine runs the tips of his fingers around the edges of the tattoo, admiring the work with awe still plastered in his eyes. He falls asleep knowing that he's made an impact on how the beautiful boy underneath him sees himself, and couldn't be happier with how his year has turned out.

I.

After Kurt tries to convince Blaine to get one for over a year, the inkless boy has learned ways to avoid the subject, often times just saying "I'll think about it," or "maybe soon." After a while, Kurt gives up, happy to allow Blaine to cherish his own tattoos instead.

It's the day before their two year anniversary, both graduated from high school, currently sophomores in college. Next year they'll be able to have their own apartment together, and the only reason they aren't living together this year is partly per Kurt's dad's requests, and mostly because they wanted to make the mutual adult decision to see if they could make it in a new city before they committed to living together. They'd both made it into their dream schools – Blaine at NYU for a nursing program, surprising everyone but Kurt who knew how Blaine loved to care and nurture people, and Kurt at Parson's for fashion design, surprising only his father who assumed he had wanted to get into performance.

They had planned a small date night for their actual anniversary involving dinner reservations and a movie night back home, but their plans never seemed to turn out how they wanted. Blaine promised Rachel they would attend her first show ("Off-Broadway still has _Broadway_ in the name, Blaine, I'm 95% there already!") which was coincidentally scheduled for their anniversary date. The small girl had somehow wormed her way into their lives once Blaine joined Glee and attached herself to his side when she found out their voices matched perfectly. They not-quite-voluntarily rescheduled their date night to the day before so they could celebrate with her after the show and have a lazy day afterwards to recover (maybe Kurt's skank habits has rubbed off on Blaine because they could both hold their liquor now).

Kurt was currently waiting for Blaine to show up to his apartment, noting that it had been exactly forty-three minutes since he last texted, and thirty after he said he'd be there. One more call couldn't hurt.

Three rings in and he was ready to hang up out of pure frustration.

" _Hello?"_

"About time, Blaine, honestly. When are you getting here? You said you'd be here like a year ago."

" _Wow, that was dramatic even for you, babe. I should be there in like five minutes, don't worry. We won't miss the reservations."_

"I'm not fucking worried about the reservations, I was worried about you, dumbass. And the fact that you never told me where you were, so spit it out."

" _I'll tell you when I get back, I have a surprise for you. And yes, that's what took so long, so. I'll see you soon."_

And abruptly hung up.

Kurt was fuming, but figured he'd have time to ream Blaine out, then probably still have time to have some _fun_ before they had to leave for their reservation at the quaint little Italian place Blaine found the first week they came to the city. And if it was a surprise Blaine was going to share, all the better.

Kurt was still leaning against the counter in his small kitchenette looking through his twitter feed when Blaine swings the door open, beaming with an excited smile. The closer he gets to Kurt though, the more nervous he looks.

"Look, I'm not actually mad at you, just weirded out that you'd voluntarily be late to our date, you hate being late." He remarks with a roll of his eyes, locking his phone and pushing off from the counter.

"I-I got a tattoo." Blaine blurts it out, it seems, before he can actually think about what he's saying. Bless him and his nervous habits.

Kurt raised an eyebrow – now piercing-less – and smirks a little, because really, Blaine's always adorable when he has "secrets."

"Is that so?" He says with a small amount of sarcasm, noticing a small lump under the shorter boy's tight polo.

"I-yeah."

"Well, are you gonna show me? Or are you gonna make me guess?"

Hearing Kurt reference the day he got the tattoo inspired by Blaine himself is too much, and all but rips off his polo, tossing it over the back of the couch he's standing next to.

Starting to peel off the bandage on his ribs, just under his left peck spurs Kurt into action, moving closer to him, and when he gets close enough, takes Blaine's shaking hands into his own. Calming Blaine down will come first, finding out what the tattoo is will come second. If the idea of showing Kurt this, is enough to rattle Blaine this much, it'll definitely be worth talking about first.

"Hey, just, slow down, hun. What's going on? Take a breath for me, okay?"

Blaine inhales the deepest he possibly can while looking up to the ceiling, holding it for a second or two and exhales, bringing his eyes to meet Kurt's, the softest grey with hints of green, finding him curiously watching as his inner panic subsides.

"I'm okay, I just – Will you help me?"

Finding the bandage to be at an awkward angle for Blaine himself to remove it, Kurt plucks at one edge until it starts peeling slowly off, careful of the boy's sensitive skin. He keeps his eyes glued to his work until the whole bandage is removed, only turning to place the bandage on the table before turning back to get a good look at the tattoo Blaine had gotten without him knowing.

Mouth dropping open, Kurt openly gapes at the tattoo, noting in the back of his mind how tastefully done it is.

Resting just under his left peck is a graceful outline of a blackbird, seemingly angled toward Blaine's heart, ready to take flight. What catches Kurt's attention, however, is where the blackbird is perched. The small bird, not but three inches tall, looks as if it is tightly gripping a small portion of a jagged scar that runs from above Blaine's hip up to the middle of his chest, now made to look like a branch.

He doesn't even realize his watery eyes until a warm splash meets his hand that is extended towards the tan skin in front of him. He glances up to Blaine, the silent question hanging between them, already asked.

"Kurt, there is a moment where you say to yourself, "Oh, there you are, I've been looking for you forever." Watching how you handled yourself at McKinley, that was the moment, for me, where you moved me, Kurt. And this is just an excuse to always have you with me. You helped me to be strong when I didn't think I could be. You survived that place, got through all the crap they put you through, and it – it helped knowing you knew what I went through and you helped me though that too, like I'd never gotten over it, until I met you."

Kissing Blaine was a no brainer, he moves forward easily to grasp his face between both his hands, forcing their eyes to meet.

"You changed me too, you helped me, too. You are such a special person, you are precious to the world, Blaine."

"I didn't want to go to McKinley. I don't know what got me to agree to it, but I'm glad I did. And as soon as I met you, I knew it was going to be okay. Even if you didn't let me help at first, just having you there – it helped. You are the reason I'm here, and happy, and enjoying everything we have together. Thank you." By this point, both boys had steady streams of tears falling from their chins, and happily helped the other rid them from their faces. Neither knew who managed to start it, but they end up giggling uncontrollably, falling onto the couch, Blaine landing on top of Kurt while his laughing slows and gazes lovingly to the boy who he gave his heart to, who he permanently marked his body for.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Two years and one tattoo leads into a fifth year, and a tattoo on a forearm for Kurt and a shoulder for Blaine, featuring mirrored images of a lone stethoscope wrapped around a pair of open scissors.

The fifth year bleeds into a tenth and a complete sleeve for Kurt, the now famous fashion designer making waves with his grunge-inspired look being featured in numerous fashion magazines and his own line, and Blaine coming up with the idea to get his husband's and newborn daughter's initials on the inside of his left and right wrists, respectively.

Ten years flows into twenty and leads to the appearance of another lavender blossom on Kurt's hip after his father passes, and Blaine's new halo over his shoulder tattoo makes an appearance not long after.

Twenty four years in, they still cherish their permanent reminders of how different experiences influenced each of them, even when Kurt gets sick and diagnosed with renal cancer, his situation identical to what his mother had gone through. When he starts chemo and radiation, Blaine stays strong, if not for Kurt, then Reagan, who moves home from college soon enough to help her fathers. And when they lose him a year later after fighting his way through hell, matching lavender blossoms framed with white paisley are added to each of their shoulders.

But there is nothing that could have taken away how Kurt changed Blaine's life forever, starting with a simple blur of roman numerals and fierce glance.


End file.
